


The Boy Who Cried Wolf - Chrysalis

by PoeticMilk



Category: Stray Kids (Band), other bands mentioned - Fandom, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Abduction, Abuse, Alternate Universe - High School, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Crime, Crimes & Criminals, Explicit Sexual Content, I'm Bad At Tagging, Investigation, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Missing Persons, Ouf lets get started, Please Don't Hate Me, Police, Self Harm, Stalker, Stalking, Stockholm Syndrome, Swearing, Violence, please keep on reading the tags, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-10-15 04:18:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17521874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoeticMilk/pseuds/PoeticMilk
Summary: For him, the world had always felt like a tight chrysalis in which he was trapped and unable to move freely, even though he technically was free. But then, when he really got captured, locked away from the outside world he suddenly felt free. He could stretch, splay out his fingers and toes. Yes, suddenly he was free. But maybe he just hatched out of his uncomfortable chrysalis. He thought it was time for him to finally turn into that beautiful butterfly that he had always been supposed to be.  This was his story, or as he would later call it:The beginning of his hatching._________________Or: Jungkook would do anything for attention. After he made up a story about a stalker, he is at the brink of losing everything but just in the right moment, it turns out that his story was not just a mere lie and that his stalker did indeed exist. And he hated himself for wanting to be with him, to use him. And he hated himself for noticing how much they needed each other.





	1. The Hatching

**Author's Note:**

> Omfg here it is. This idea has been stuck in my head for months now and I was finally able to write it down.  
> This story will have sexual content though I am not sure if it'll contain smut. If it does, though, it will be 100% consensual.  
> This story has trigger warnings. It is gory. It is violent.  
> Maybe it will have two endings. Maybe it will only have one.  
> I hope you guys don't hate me too much for it but I really really enjoyed writing the first chapter and I hope you like reading it. 
> 
> Please, with every additional chapter, read the tags as I will add some from time to time to make sure you read nothing you don't want to read!
> 
> At the end of the chapter you'll see my moodboard for the story, and at the beginning of every chapter you have the major characters moodboard (= the ppl that appear in this chapter) and how I imagined them in this story. When a new character appears, his photo will be revealed. Have fun with 
> 
> The Boy Who Cried Wolf: Chrysalis!!

 

 

For him, the world had always felt like a tight chrysalis in which he was trapped and unable to move freely, even though he technically was free. At least he thought he was, thought he was himself and thought he was happy. Well, he was happy. Always lucky. Was that the same? He dared say that it wasn’t but what did he care in the end? But then, when he really got captured, locked away from the outside world he suddenly felt free. He could stretch, splay out his fingers and toes. Yes, suddenly he was free. What an unusual contradiction. But maybe he just hatched out of his uncomfortable chrysalis. He thought it was time for him to finally turn into that beautiful butterfly that he had always been supposed to be.

 

During the time of his hatching he basically was an 18 year old fool that spent more time thinking about what was real and what not rather than finding a perfect hiding spot for his porn magazines. After 18 years of intense thinking he still couldn’t tell for sure and even though he also spent the following years of his life thinking about the same questions, he was deeply convinced that he’d probably never get an answer. Which was fine with him, at least he’d never get bored.

 

He couldn’t say that he wasn’t satisfied with his life as he had always been that spoiled brat, the kid everyone envied and the centre of attention wherever he went. He had everything and every single one of his dreams would be granted. But there was one thing that he certainly had but never had enough of. It was attention indeed. He never wanted to fight for attention but he was convinced that it was other people’s fault if they didn’t give him enough of it and if that was the case, he’d let them know that he was pissed. But besides enough attention he simply had everything he wanted. Well, except for friends. Real friends he should say. Friends generally are a nice concept in theory. They listen to you, support you. They agree with you and they are some kind of family but different from your own. Some people even preferred their friends over their mommies or daddies or younger siblings, which he could understand. When he was 18 he absolutely was sure that he had friends, whom he didn’t really love but still liked more than his parents. But even they turned out to be a sheer lie, not true friends. And who believed in a lie that had once been exposed? He certainly didn’t, he never made the same mistake twice.

 

He remembered a sunny afternoon in autumn when he was on his way home from school. It wasn’t an unordinary day, he parted ways with his friends (he decided to keep calling them ‘friends’ until he got to the point where they exposed themselves as just people he used to know) and shortly after that when he was walking down a small street, he got this weird sensation that one gets when feeling watched by someone. Nobody could really express it, but everyone was familiar with that feeling. He had always thought of this sensation as some kind of unwanted telekinesis, in which the predator sends the person that is being watched some kind of signals that tell him or her that he or she is being watched. But no predator would ever tell it’s booty that it was it’s booty otherwise it would try to escape, wouldn’t it? That’s why it was called _unwanted_ telekinesis.

 

Until he reached his house he had turned around several times as this weird feeling of being watched just wouldn’t disappear. And then, when he closed the door behind his back, it suddenly was gone. But what wasn’t gone was this unmissable opportunity that he got from this event, even though nothing really had happened. But it could have, and that was enough for him to start a drama and to share it with the whole world.

 

So on the same evening during the rare occasion of his family dining together, he showed off his 18 year long acting experience which he dared say was top notch and told them about that weird man following him home from school. Yes, he knew that at that point he couldn’t have said for sure that there had been someone watching let alone following him, but he also couldn’t say that it wasn’t the case. So he wasn’t particularly lying, he was just displaying the different possible scenarios. He must say that while his parents did love him in their own way they also didn’t care about him a lot. All they did was buy him everything he wanted to keep him satisfied so that he would stop nagging but once there was something that was impossible to buy with money, things would get a bit complicated. So the first thing they told him was that he shouldn’t worry too much as he was probably just overreacting and that he should ask a friend to walk him home and if something happened, he should call them right away. As if they would answer their phone.

 

As you may have guessed, their reaction didn’t quite satisfy him. He knew his parents and he knew that they wouldn’t have called the police right away but they could’ve reacted a bit more concerned. How about calling someone to drive him to school, or at least showing a genuine worried expression on their bland faces. That’s why he couldn’t let go of this incredible opportunity of creating a whole new level of attention for himself. After intentionally not finishing his meal in order to emphasize the fake distress that he was going through because of that weird man, he went into his room and sat down in front of his desk to plan out a whole idea and to create a strategy. Yes, from the moment the opportunity was given to him he was obsessed with it and the extra attention it would bring him. What he had planned was basically that he would start rather harmless until gradually increasing the level of seriousness of his fake story. _His_ story, or as he would later call it:

 

_The beginning of his hatching._

 

 

 

 

Of course nothing had happened on his way to school on the next day, why would it? Not even this subtle feeling of being watched crossed his path. Yet he spent the whole 15 minute walk to think about everything he had planned out about his story. He got excited just thinking about the turmoil that it would cause. It felt like early Christmas and after years of boring Christmas presents he would finally get what he had always longed for. Even more attention. Sometimes he asked himself if there was something wrong with him and he came to the conclusion that there certainly was, but in the end he didn’t care a single bit about it. Why would he want to live a normal and boring life when he could get all the attention he needed? He wasn’t being selfish, he was just living his life to the fullest in his opinion. And everything that mattered for him was indeed he himself.

 

School was something he neither liked nor hated. He had mixed feelings about it. Sometimes he tended to rather dislike school and sometimes he couldn’t wait to get there. Just like today. When he entered the classroom he could already hear his friends’ loud and cheerful voices. He on the other side bore an agitated mimic. It was his best friend that had noticed him first. The rather small one walked over to him and seemed worried after seeing the state his friend was in, the distress. But no, patience is the secret to victory. So he just nodded, said it was nothing and sat down on his desk.

 

He didn’t say one word about it until the second break. He actually planned to first tell his friends when school was already over, but he just couldn’t hold it in any longer. So he pulled Jimin, his best friend, aside and asked him to _talk for a second._ The best friend that he was, Jimin of course nodded and listened to him closely.

 

‘See, yesterday when I was on my way home from school… there was someone watching me. The whole time. I really didn’t think much about it as I couldn’t see anyone but today I noticed it again. And I think I saw someone’, was what Jungkook had said to his friend.

 

Jimin did seem worried and also seemed to believe him. Of course, why wouldn’t he believe him? Until now, Jungkook hadn’t lied just yet. Yes, he hadn’t seen anybody on his way to school besides a bunch of other school kids, but there could as well have been somebody following him.

 

‘Oh no, are you sure? I bet you must be frightened. Maybe it was just someone sharing the same route to school as you, no?’

 

Perfect. That was exactly the reaction that Jungkook had expected from his friend and he was beyond satisfied. Jimin did what all friends should’ve done in this situation: believe, worry but try to find a reasonable explanation for the problem to calm his friend down. Hiding a big grin of success, Jungkook nodded, agreed with him and kindly turned down the offer by his friend to walk home with him together. Why? It was too soon for that. That would obviously come at some point in his story, but not yet. He said he was probably just a bit overly sensitive and just assuming things and he would be able to walk home by himself.

 

‘But if something happens, let me know immediately! I’ll run straight to you. Or just call me if you feel safer. And tell me when you’re home.’

 

And he thanked him. To be real honest, he liked Jimin. He’d known him for several years now, they had first met in kindergarten, and since then they’ve been friends. Real good friends. They met up quite often, spent quality time together and Jimin was one of the rare friends that didn’t hang out with him because he had money. There were a lot of people that used him to get free meals or to get into the good, expensive clubs but Jungkook didn’t like being used. He liked using. So he stopped going to clubs, even though he had just become old enough to get into them, and decided to spend more time with Jimin. Jimin was just caring, honest and slightly naive (that’s why he only told him about the ‘stalker’ at first) but he was what you would call a true friend. That’s what he had thought at first, at least. What he would notice later on was that Jimin was not naive. He in fact was just a good friend but certainly didn’t want to be used. Sadly, Jungkook didn’t know that.

 

And then he walked home. Relaxed, slowly, and happy about the successful day. It had just went the way he had planned and if it kept going on like that, his life would become a paradise on earth where the only currency would be attention. Why else was it called ‘to _pay_ attention to somebody’? But he, he didn’t pay attention to anything besides his joyful thoughts and his hopes for the day to be over as quickly as possible to get on with his plan the following day but because of that, he also didn’t notice that he indeed wasn’t the only one that took the same, rather empty route as him.

 

And when he arrived at home, he waited a couple of minutes and texted his friend that he was home, put a smiling emoticon next to it and grabbed himself something to eat. A wonderful day at home alone, but he wished he could tell someone about his plan. About his joy and how happy he already was and how even happier he would get in the next couple of days. He longed to write down how he was feeling but there just simply weren’t enough adjectives to accomplish that. Besides, the only thing he needed was _feeling_ the joy, the success. He couldn’t wait for the seething attention to be cooked through so that he could devour it like a feast.

 

The following day, when it had finally come, his plan continued. Jimin asked him if he had noticed something again yesterday, and Jungkook hesitated, shook his head but for the rest of the day he seemed rather absentmindedly. And he was thinking about a lot of things indeed, how his plan would continue for example, but when his best friend asked him if really nothing had happened because he seemed so lost in thought, he tried to deny it, obviously not doing such a great job at it because the art behind it was that Jimin would notice that something did happen (which it didn’t) but without directly saying it. So Jimin kept asking until Jungkook defeatedly gave in and told him that yes, he saw that man again and when he was turning around, he hurriedly hid behind a car. _Obviously_.

 

Jimin, worried as he was, asked him, in a kind of upset way, why he didn’t tell him right away or why he didn’t call or why, why, why. And Jungkook quietly told him that he didn’t want to be a nuisance, that he didn’t want to make such a big fuss out of it and that he didn’t want to annoy anyone, since it’s probably not a big deal. Oh, he loved himself. He loved, loved, loved himself and his perfect plan and his perfect acting.

 

And Jimin hit him slightly, complaining about how he could think something like that, that it was complete bullshit and next time he should tell him immediately and so on, Jungkook didn’t really listen to that crap. What would follow was the next step: walking home with him. And this time Jungkook admitted that he was a bit scared and if he maybe could accompany him on his way. And of course, the best friend he truly was, Jimin agreed. As planned.

 

As expected, nothing had happened on their way home. Jungkooks excuse: maybe his stalker didn’t show up because someone, in this case Jimin, was with him. But Jimin was worried that maybe he wasn’t here just today and that he would come back later - he would definitely walk him to school the next morning. But Jungkook refused, he couldn’t let that happen, because he had already planned his next step. And for that, he didn’t need Jimin, no, Jimin mustn’t be there. His excuse was that he probably was seeing things and that he felt really safe with Jimin that day and because it would be a detour for him, he was perfectly okay with walking alone. But he assured him that if he saw something, he’d tell him right away. And Jimin was okay with it.

 

The next two days nothing had happened. Jungkook smiled, he was all happy until the next day where he stopped at a certain point on his way home, ran into an alleyway and called Jimin. He told him that his stalker was there again and that he saw his face for a brief second until the alleged predator turned around and ran away. He said he was so scared and that he didn’t know what to do, he was hiding at the moment. Jimin kept him on the phone until he arrived there with another friend from school, and now there were three people in total that knew about the stalker.

 

Jungkook told them how he sensed this feeling of being followed again, how there were these footsteps again and then he described the face of his stalker. He said he maybe was in his thirties or even forties, that he was wearing glasses and was carrying a small camera. He couldn’t see anything else since he was wearing a black cap and a face mask. But when Jungkook spotted him, he ran away and he was too scared to go after him. Jimin was all worried, but his friend Jisung somehow was a bit sceptic. Jungkook wasn’t happy about this at all. Why would somebody doubt him? That Jisung guy asked a couple of useless but dangerous questions that he didn’t go through in his mind beforehand. No, he didn’t want to report to the police because he didn’t see his whole face and the police would probably turn his report down. No, he didn’t want to talk to his parents because they wouldn’t believe him as he had already tried talking to them. Yes, sure, you can walk him to school, thanks for being so concerned. He didn’t like Jisung. He thought he was kind of troublesome. Yet, somehow, Jungkook didn’t lie about feeling being watched, but that he kind of ignored.

 

The following days Jungkook got escorted by Jimin and Jisung. The first days he was really happy about it - at least he acted that way - but that had to stop at some point or he couldn’t continue with his plan. And slowly, more and more people took a whiff of the _Jungkook Stalker_. As nothing was happening during the time Jungkook was accompanied by some friends, they soon kind of forgot about it and let Jungkook go home alone again. Jungkook hated it, that his story wasn’t the number one conversation in school anymore, but still he needed to stay patient. And he waited another few days until this time he maybe stepped too far and almost fell off the cliff.

 

On that day he left his home just as always and went a few meters until he got far enough away from home and hid again in a small alleyway to make sure nobody saw him. There he ripped the left side of his jacket, scratched his left arm and grabbed his wrist so tightly that it left marks on his pure skin. On one side he hated seeing his skin like that, so damaged, but on the other hand he found it beautiful and he was convinced that it was so authentic. And he messed up his hair and ran to school, as fast as he could.

 

When he arrived there out of breath, people already noticed what had happened. A crowd formed around him, Jimin was almost crying, he looked really cute when he cried, and everyone was so, so caring. Jungkook could finally breath. The air he sucked into his nostrils was so refreshing, so invigorating, he felt like he was high or almost at the peak of his story, almost. It was so hard, that was the downside of his story, that he couldn’t smile while everyone was shooting him with their attention or else his mask would fall off. Today had been the best day of his life, indeed, he thought. But he couldn’t help but notice some people that refused to give him his hard earned attention. And amongst them, having just arrived, there was Jisung.

 

‘And how did you get away again?’, he had asked Jungkook.

 

‘As I told you, I kicked him in the shin. And then I ran and didn’t turn around once’, Jungkook answered.

 

‘Uh-huh’, Jisung said, ‘I was just wondering why he didn’t grab you with both of his hands. Also, it strangely looks like you grabbed yourself with your own hand…”

 

Oh, he hated him so much.

 

‘What are you talking about?! Do you think Jungkook would come up with such a gruesome story?’

 

Oh, he loved Jimin.

 

Jungkook just shook his head, ‘It’s okay Jimin. Maybe he’s just jealous of all the attention that I’m getting.’

 

And they went away, ignoring all these other questions like: Why didn’t you see his face this time? Why aren’t you already reporting to police or at least tell your parents? Why were there no eye witnesses? Jungkook should ‘calm down a bit’ and so they went to the infirmary, where Jimin took a look at Jungkooks wounds. He declared them as not so heavy, but he was no doctor, of course.

 

But also Jimin told him to talk to his parents, to go to the police. He was worried that things could escalate, as they already did, and that something would actually happen to Jungkook. This man was dangerous, he said. Jungkook liked this, he liked how worried his best friend was about him and how he kept on believing him. Of course, there had to be some people that didn’t, but there were people like that everywhere. One couldn’t prevent that. What was important now was that Jungkook had the best time of his life. The rest of the day was just so wonderful. Everyone cared about him, tried to distract him from what had happened. People treated _him_ to lunch this time and not the other way around as usual. Not that it bothered him, he would’ve paid, but just the idea of it already satisfied him. And it satisfied him how everyone gathered around him as if he was the sun. He was the centre of attention indeed, for the next few days. And he was as happy as he could be. He almost forgot about the stalker whilst his friends were still so worried and spent almost every day after school with him. They walked him to and from school, were constantly by his side, listened to his other, maybe made-up stories, nobody cared about anything but him.

 

But sadly, nothing lasts forever, and slowly his attention faded in the dark, somewhere where he couldn’t reach it anymore. He hated that. He hated this rollercoaster he was riding while pursuing his story. One moment he was at the peak of attention and then suddenly there was a long fall full of nothing but normality. He needed to come up with something else, maybe he would even consider reporting to the police just to make it more dramatic. But before that, something else had to happen. Something on a new level.

 

And there he was once again, sitting in front of his desk with his gloves on - just in case - trying to put himself into the mind of a stalker. _His stalker_. What would a stalker tell its treasure if he got the opportunity to? He wrote down so many ideas, but all of them he ripped apart and threw away.

 

He closed his eyes and imagined himself, walking in front of him. And then he just began to talk about what he liked about himself, he tried to see himself from a third person perspective. And then he put down his pen, and just wrote, noticeable choosing a different handwriting from his own:

 

_I admire seeing you so unworried, thinking I wasn’t there. But I am here, just by your side. I once got hold of you, and I will again. My treasure._

 

Short and precise. He was satisfied with what he had written down, even though it wasn’t much. It was eerie but didn’t give a lot of information away, it just indicated that his stalker had attempted to abduct him but Jungkook - sadly - got away. He stared at the little note, on that ripped paper and put down his pen. He hated how the wind always made him flinch when it knocked something over outside. He folded the paper and opened his window, putting the little note on the windowsill. But that night, it wasn’t windy. It was so, so calm.

 

The next day in school he obviously showed the letter around, he even almost fake cried. But why, suddenly, nobody, not even Jimin seemed to be worried. No one gave him the attention he used to get when something like this happened. So suddenly. He asked himself why, and Jimin wanted to talk to him in private.

 

‘Jungkook… can it be that you’re lying? About that stalker I mean.’

 

‘What? Why would I lie about something like that?!’

 

‘I know, but… It’s just that somehow nothing ever happens when we are with you. Things only happen as soon as you’re alone.’

 

Why was that happening? Why did Jimin suddenly doubt him?

 

‘Of course it doesn’t! Or would you, as a perpetrator attack your target when it has company? Obviously not! Are you saying it is my fault that I got attacked?’

 

Jimin just sighed, he seemed to think about what he was planning on saying now.

 

‘Sure, that makes sense. But it’s not just that. See, Jisung was on his way to your house to walk you to school but when you were already gone, he saw you ripping your sleeve and self-inflicting those wounds when your stalker attacked you, supposedly.’

 

Jungkook for once didn’t know what to say. So that was why Jisung was so skeptical about his story. But why hadn’t he confronted him earlier? Why did it have to happen like this? Why did it suddenly feel like everything he had built up over the past weeks just simply crumbled within a few seconds? This just couldn’t happen.

 

‘I swear Jimin I’m not making this up, see, I got this note and-‘

 

‘Oh my god just stop Jungkook! What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you come up with such a gruesome story?! You’re so desperate for attention you’re losing touch with reality. Wake up, for gods sake. The world doesn’t revolve around you, this is so sick!’

 

His mouth stood open. The fact that they weren’t in private now anymore but that people had joined their little argument was devastating. It was the exact opposite of what should’ve happened. He felt as if they had torn him into pieces. When he told him again that this story was not made up, because he felt like maybe he could fix this whole mess, Jisung got himself involved again.

 

‘Stop already you’re just making it worse. I saw you ripping your clothes apart. I saw you hurting yourself. And why, if you really were afraid and if there really was a stalker, aren’t you talking to your parents, to teachers or go to the police? This is so suspicious. Just admit it already.’

 

It was his fault. All his fault. All Jisung’s fault. If he hadn’t been there, Jimin wouldn’t have gotten suspicious. No-one would have. Jungkook hated looking at him. He hated his face, he hated Jimin’s disappointed mimic, he hated the people that were standing around him. It hurt so much and yet he didn’t feel like he was at fault. He didn’t feel like he had done something wrong. And when the school bell rang, everyone, every single one of his friends had turned their backs.

 

The following days were living hell. He was afraid of going to school, he tried to talk to Jimin everyday, he tried to resolve things but Jimin, the fool that he certainly hadn’t been, to Jungkooks surprise, didn’t want to resolve anything. In fact, he didn’t want to talk to Jungkook at all, he simply ignored him. And if he could point something out, ignorance was the exact opposite of attention. One couldn’t even imagine how much it had torn him apart inside. How his blood froze to ice in his veins and how he couldn’t feel one bit of joy anymore. He slowly but surely was suffocating.

 

And things didn’t seem to settle down. Jungkook thought that he was getting paranoid. He himself knew for sure that the story was completely made-up but he also forgot that it was built up on one event that had happened on this day on which he felt like he was being watched. And this feeling didn’t disappear. It was present, everyday on his way to school and on his way home. He must’ve become crazy. Maybe he had been so much into his fake story that he himself started to believe it. But why did this continuously happen? Why did he keep hearing steps? Why did he see weird shadows following him? He tried to ignore those signs, he was sure that this was just the aftermath of his story. Yes, he started to feel remorse. He was so unhappy about this whole situation, he wished he could’ve turned back time. In the end, even though he had been so sure of gaining the ultimate amount of attention, he not just lost that but also everything else. His friends weren’t there anymore. Nothing had been left. He was all alone.

 

One morning, when he opened his window, he noticed a small note on the windowsill. He didn’t think much of it at first, but when he opened it, his heart sunk.

 

 

_Are you familiar with the children’s story called The Boy Who Cried Wolf? I am so sorry that you cannot convince them of my presence. But if it is of any help, I can assure you that I am always there. I’ve never imagined becoming a wolf, but I became fond of this idea._

 

This time, he swore, he swore by god and by what not that he did not write this piece of crap. If he had, he would have told you. But he certainly didn’t. He ran off to school and grabbed Jimin, begging him to look at the note and that he swore he didn’t write it.

 

‘I admit it Jimin, I made that whole story up. Everything. Everything except this feeling of being watched and those footsteps. I- I hear them everywhere I go and now this showed up. Please, Jimin, believe me!’

 

 _Sick_ , he had said. _You’re so sick._

 

No matter what he had tried the following days, nobody believed him. The story of The Boy Who Cried Wolf described his life just perfectly. He admitted to telling lies. And if one continuously told lies, people will start not trusting you anymore, even if you told the truth. That was what had happened to him. There were various endings to the story, some were happy, others were tragic. He was just curious which one he would get.

 

*

 

It was pure satisfaction. You could almost smell it in the air. Satisfaction had probably been his favorite word for some weeks by now since Jungkook clearly was the definition of satisfaction. The purest form. The fact that his treasure was aware of him was something he didn’t know whether he was fond of or not. He liked that he had turned around every two steps he took, that he hurriedly went home and that he checked twice if he had locked the door. But on the other hand - why would he have been afraid of him? He could’ve just been one of those normal people, a random pedestrian in the streets. But he wasn’t just one of them. He'd been waiting for the moment when Jungkook would call him all those nicknames that were almost as beautiful as his own, such like my stalker or my haunter. Even my predator. What’s so beautiful about those nicknames was that they were only used with one specific pronoun: my. Whenever his treasure would talk about him he wouldn’t say: I saw the predator, the stalker again. No, he would use a possessive pronoun: I saw _my_ predator. I saw _my_ stalker today. By saying this Jungkook made him his possession, a wonderful feeling he thought. He held back a joyful moan at that though. That’s why pronouns like that one were very important and often used in the wrong way. And his lovely boy, he had been naive enough to use those pronouns and because he had known him for such a long time now he could clearly say that he even was fond of calling him _his_ stalker. Why? He loved attention. He would’ve called him an attention whore but his treasure was no whore.

 

Seeing him looking around when he left his house would’ve made him grin but he was a bit, well, disappointed that his first appearance wasn’t as spectacular and as trace-leaving as he had wished it to be. Jungkook was alert now that he had his note, he would be more careful from now on but it didn't feel special enough. He'd wanted him to scream: Who's there?! Whenever he went home from school, but that time would come. One must be patient. When Jungkook had looked around the mimic on his face was lovely, it showed this fear of the unknown, the mother of all fears.

 

He took out his camera and when that perfect face showed up in his field of vision as Jungkook once again turned around, he shot a photo. Two, three. He was proud of them, master shots, he showed an emotion that he hadn’t been able to get captured on a photograph before. Actual fear. It was sweet how Jungkook didn't know, how he didn't know anything but how he himself knew everything. And nobody else would know, would believe Jungkook’s cries of despair.

 

*

 

When he was a kid he would always hide under his bed sheets. He never really knew why he was hiding, but there must’ve been a reason. Ever kid at some point in their lives did that. But if you hid there for too long, your brain would warn you about the lack of oxygen, demanding you to gasp for fresh air. That’s how the past days felt for him, as if someone had put him underneath a blanket where he could sense a lack of attention, his oxygen. As a kid you would then try to find the end of the blanket to draw air into your little nostrils but when you couldn’t find the surface for one second, you would start panicking. But what he felt wasn’t being trapped underneath a cotton blanked but rather underneath sheet of ice, floating in ice cold water without a chance to breathe, to escape.

 

For the first time in his life he started to panic. And this time he was panicking more about the stalker than suffocating due to the lack of attention. He couldn’t tell imagination and reality apart anymore. Where these footsteps that he was hearing only a part of his lie? Or were they there, slowly approaching him? And what about the subtle breathing noise he heard in that alleyway when he was trying to light his first cigarette that one day? Was it his own breath? But this calm breathing just hadn’t matched his shaky hands. He had become paranoid. And it drove him crazy. The craving after his only drug, the attention and hundreds of eyes caring about him drove him into his ruins. All drugs had consequences, in what ever form they might appear.

 

And people that he once called friends (at this point he would slowly stop calling them that), they had turned their backs, badmouthed him, called him several swearwords and accused him of lying. He knew for himself that he was a liar, a mere story-teller, a really bad one on top of that. But when all there was left was this emptiness, this void in which he was drifting, he felt everything around him crumbling. Nobody was left, nobody to look at him, to talk to him or to touch him. He wanted to chat, not even about himself but he would’ve loved to listen to their boring stories. He would’ve laughed. But he couldn’t hear a single voice. Only dull conversations in which he could sometimes make out his name followed by a swearword. Was that remorse? Yes, yes he saw that he had sinned.

 

School became a living hell. He would lie about feeling unwell and would stay at home not just because he was afraid of eating lunch all by myself in school, at an empty table without exchanging a single word with other human beings but also because he was afraid of hearing these footsteps again, to feel a stranger’s eyes resting on his back. He was afraid of the paranoia, the possibility that there was a monster waiting for him outside. And the day on which he told his parents about it, he circled it red in his calendar. He wanted to treasure it forever, the day on which his parents for the first time hadn’t disappointed him. He would celebrate it every year, with a big bottle of champagne.

 

It happened on a Monday. He successfully had managed to spend the weekend inside this cell called his room but his plan was to stay another week at home from school. It was a rare morning scenario for him as he had breakfast together with his parents at the same time but he again did what he was just good at. Acting. He complained about feeling unwell, that he hadn’t been able to eat one thing on Sunday (even though he had shoved the muffin into his mouth without chewing once) because of his stomachache and that he wanted to stay at home. But his parents where far from stupid. Even though they didn’t spend a lot of time with him, he was still their son and they knew what was going on inside his head. At least partially. So they told him to see a doctor since this had been going on for a while now and they were, listen closely, ‘worried about him’. The school needed a sick note. And that would become a problem because he didn’t try to avoid school in the first place but he was trying to avoid leaving the house and since their doctor wasn’t far enough for his parents to take him there by car, he would have had to _walk_.

 

‘I won’t go see the doctor, you could just simply call the school and tell them I’m not feeling well’, he complained.

 

‘If you won’t go see a doctor, you’ll have to go to school’, was what his father had said.

 

Neither was a good solution as both would drag him outside. So he decided to finally tell his parents about the alleged stalker, his fear of leaving the house. He told them about all their encounters, more or less, the note and that he was afraid that he would get abducted, raped or murdered. And now the part where his parents didn’t disappoint him for the first time would follow. One had to keep in mind that his parents had always disappointed him thorough his life. Empty promises like ‘we’ll have dinner together tonight’ or ‘we’ll finish work earlier today and will sing you a lullaby’ were always broken but even if he had gotten himself a tattoo, right on his forehead saying ‘disappointments’, his parents wouldn’t have noticed. So on this day too, he had hoped for them to disappoint him. _They, too, will think that I’m a liar_ , he had thought before telling them, _why would I even bother letting them know._ He technically predicted what would happen when he told them about his problem. That’s why he had kept it a secret from them for such a long time. Because he knew that they wouldn’t believe him. That was just the way his parents were. And even though he knew it, he also knew that whatever he would think, his parents would do the exact opposite and disappoint him.

 

So when they did tell him that those were mere excuses and lies, it technically was exactly what he had predicted and therefore he was not disappointed. And for once he had wished he was. He had wished for them to believe him. He was sad, he felt lost, as if the only grip he could hold on just broke away and he fell into the abyss. He couldn’t find the end of the blanket and suffocated, he froze in the ice cold water. He felt dead. There was nothing left for him, everyone had let him down. It felt like the end.

 

But then it clicked, as if a record player had stopped to play, his thoughts stopped with it. And he decided to put this everything behind himself. He left the dining room, changed into his school uniform and left the house. His parents didn’t try to stop him, they didn’t even say one word because of course, he was _lying_ and just didn’t want to go to school. But he swore revenge and it had to be perfect. Even though his heart pounded audibly in his chest, he didn’t stop walking and he didn’t slow down. It wasn’t fear that he felt anymore, it was anger. Anger towards everyone he believed to have known. He didn’t rush to school, he walked relaxed, his hands shoved into his pockets even though he had already been late for school. But school was not his destination. This time he was hoping for his stalker, his predator to come. If anything on this day should work as planned, than this had to be it.

 

He turned round the corner and even though school wasn’t there just yet, it was pretty close so his chances were getting narrower and narrower with every step. But then there it was. The subtle sensation of being watched, the slightly slower paced footsteps that tried to synchronize with his. When being around somebody for a longer time, you will be able to distinguish the sound of their footsteps. And that was exactly what had happened to him and his stalker. It didn’t matter if it was his imagination or a real person behind or around him, but he knew those steps. And the stopped walking. He he let his backpack down to the ground and stepped back from it.

 

‘Take me with you’, he begged. It was barely audible, maybe too quiet for his opponent to hear so he wasn’t quite sure if he should repeat himself. He didn’t want to sound vulnerable, he wanted to sound firm. ‘Take me wherever you want. Anywhere is better than here.’

 

No answer, no steps, no breathing. Nothing. Nothing but his mere presence, his aura and he felt dirty for wanting to feel his affinity as he was the only one left for him. He came to the point where he longed for every affection he could get, no matter whom it came from. He feared not getting any response at all. He was afraid of getting the confirmation that in the end there was no stalker and it was only just a lie. That he was a liar and that everyone was right. Even though nothing actually following him would have been the best outcome, the ending he would have hoped for, that now had changed. He wanted to be in the right. He wanted to be stalked.

 

‘Fuck, I don’t carry a weapon just come and do whatever you want. Take me away, hit me or beat me up!’, he begged again and even though there was an audible raise in his voice, it didn’t overshadow his despair, in contrary, it only amplified it. But that didn’t bother him anymore. What bothered him was the fact that even his stalker, his predator, the person that allegedly was crazy about him seemed to have let him down just like everyone else. All he could do now was laugh, so loudly that he laugh-drowned these taunting voices inside his head. No, his stalker wasn’t crazy. It was him, he was losing his mind.

 

‘Why should I take you with me?’

 

He lapsed into silence. Everything fell silent. All the blame, the voices. The word _liar_ suddenly couldn’t be found in his vocabulary. When he imagined meeting his stalker he had always thought of a menacing voice, a voice from an old man. But this voice seemed so fresh and young. He had turned around. Left, right. Nothing. He couldn’t see anyone. Did he now hear voices, too? Was he imagining it again? And then he saw a slim, tall guy, his cap pulled down to his face but besides that he seemed just… normal almost. But there was this aura, this dark aura that Jungkook somehow had longed for.

 

‘You’re real. I’m not a liar, I- I was right!’, he restrained himself from screaming in joy. This was everything he had asked for after people failed him so much. ‘Why, why don’t you want to take me with you? Aren’t you stalking me?’

 

‘I am and I want to but why would you come with your stalker voluntarily?’

 

He smiled and pressed his flat hands to his heart. The stalker kept himself in the shadows, still a few meters away from him.

 

‘I think you’re the only one that understands me. Someone who likes, no, is obsessed with me someone that… could give me all the attention I want. I need you. Just make sure that I’m your whole world, just as you’ve become mine.’

 

His stalker had turned around and took a few steps until he looked over his shoulder.

‘Get into the silver car.’

 

And Jungkook ripped the name tag from his uniform and dropped it next to his backpack. Then he did nothing but obey.

 


	2. Adronitis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no I'm so late. I didn't mean to upload so late omg!!  
> But I had so much going on recently, seriously my life's a mess!  
> But whatever, I had so much fun writing this chapter but at the same time it completely destroyed my brain cells.
> 
> Yet, I'm excited for the next chapters, ideas are flowing in c: 
> 
> Have fun reading!

 

His lips were burning, trying to force him to speak, to ask all the questions that he was holding back. But he bit his lips to make it easier for him to keep quiet. He wanted to ask, he had so many questions. Who exactly was he, if they had ever met before, why he was stalking him. What he liked about him. Yet he was unable to speak, stunned. Maybe because he was afraid. That would have been a common reaction to the situation he was in. How dumb he was, he hadn’t realized what he was doing, what a stupid idea this was. He knew it, yet he couldn’t realize it. Maybe later it would hit him and then there would be no way out. Why did he do it? Why would someone voluntarily get kidnapped by their stalker why would someone even ask for it making it sound like a desperate plea? What if that strange man next to him intended to hurt him, touch him in inappropriate places or even, well, murder him? But nothing. As if he was a child, all he could feel was excitement as if he was numb to the consequences he would cause by this stupid decision. He wondered what his stalker knew about him. He certainly knew where he lived, where he went to school and even the fact that he had lied about having a stalker which, in the end, hadn’t been a mere lie at all. But he was more curious about other, more private things. Had he ever seen him naked? Had he taken photographs of him? Or other things that he couldn’t think of at that moment?

 

Jungkook didn’t know where they were driving or even for how long. It couldn’t have been too long, too far. He didn’t even bother looking at street signs, buildings or what not. The silence bugged him, he wished his stalker would ‘break the ice’ by asking him a few questions because he just had to have some that were floating in his head, begging to be released, to be asked. Jungkook imagined what kind of questions he might have. Maybe, why would you ask me to take you with me? If he was a stalker, that would be the first question he would ask. Jungkook imagined himself answering that question, what would he say?

 

Yes it was dumb of me to ask you. But I don’t care now. This isn’t about my safety anymore, it is about revenge.

 

Would he say that? He didn’t know, maybe he would say something completely different, maybe he wouldn’t even answer. But he wasn’t asked so he wouldn’t ask either, fair enough.

 

The car pulled over a few seconds after he had finished his internal conversation and he stepped out to observe his vicinity. They parked their car in front of a medium size apartment block which seemed rather old, shabby. He hadn’t been here before, didn’t know this place. Still it looked normal, nothing mysterious or unusual. They got up a few stairs until they reached the third floor and stopped in front of apartment 306. He couldn’t see what code his stalker typed in to get into the apartment, but maybe he would tell him later. Maybe not. And his apartment wasn’t bad. Yes, it was rather small, not even as big as his bedroom alone but Jungkook didn’t think about complaining. Why would he? If he chose this, he had to deal with it. And it was not like he needed a big ass bedroom stuffed with basically nothing important.

 

His stalker shoved off his jacket and walked into the apartment, still not saying a word. Jungkook did the same, he took off his shoes and jacket and followed him through a tight hallway that lead to the living slash bedroom, on the left there was the kitchen and on the right two other rooms hid behind closed doors. He believed them to be the bathroom and well, maybe a storage room? He wasn’t sure. What he could say for sure was that the living room was stuffed with books. He had two large bookshelves that reached up to the ceiling pressed against the left wall and two smaller bookshelves next to a closet. Every single one of them was filled with books. If you tried to squeeze another one in there, Jungkook feared the shelves would break. Some books were stacked on top of the smaller shelves and those that didn’t fit in anymore were spread on the floor. There was no television but a small coffee table in front of one of the big bookshelves and room for a mattress to sleep. This was his home now. He didn’t know how or what to feel.

 

While the man disappeared into the kitchen, Jungkook crouched in front of one book. It seemed like the pages had been soaked with water and then dried again. He turned it around to look at the cover just to realize that it was Pinocchio. Why would a grown up read Pinocchio?

 

A few moments later, his stalker appeared in the living room again, kneeling in front of him. He had brought a brimming glass of water and when he put it down on the wooden floor he spilled half of it, soaking Jungkook’s socks and the book once again in water. Jungkook hated this feeling but couldn’t help but feel bad for the book, it didn’t deserve that. On the other hand, he didn’t know what to do next. He was thirsty, he wanted to flood his throat with water but what if it was poisoned? He kept staring at the glass until the man in front of him pushed it closer to him without lifting it from the ground, leaving a wet trace across the floor. Jungkook carefully took it, kept looking at it for a solid minute and then downed it. His stalker came closer with every sip until their legs almost touched each other’s, wetting the stalker’s jeans on his knees.

 

Jungkook dared getting rid of the other man’s cap and with that allowed his hair to spread into all directions, almost completely covering his eyes, but finally Jungkook was able to get a better glance of him. He looked normal. In fact, he didn’t even seem much older than Jungkook himself. One could mistake him for a student. But the man in front of him was a stalker, a potentially very dangerous guy and no doubt insane. He could just grab his throat and strangle him or he could pull out a knife and stab him to death. There were plenty of other scenarios that could happen, there were even more that he could think of. He knew that, yet he didn’t want to run. He wanted to get to know him, he wasn’t saying that his fear for him that once made it impossible for Jungkook to leave his house had been washed away like sand on a beach but in that moment curiosity dominated his fear. He couldn’t realize what he had done by following his stalker. He didn’t even know how things would be from now on, how they would continue. Yet, he didn’t even spend a thought on it, this was his life now. He was too naive to believe that maybe this would be a better life.

 

‘Can you say something?’

 

Nothing. Jungkook got no answers but stares that went right through him, not helping his chills go away.

 

‘Anything. Your name, your age. Just anything, please.’

 

It took a while until his stalker opened his mouth and then finally for the first time after they first had met in the streets, he talked.

 

‘This isn’t how I’ve planned this. But it was so easy.’

 

Jungkook frowned. ‘Getting me here, you mean?’

 

He nodded and then began slapping himself slightly, over and over again, asking if this was a dream and if yes it was terrible and he wanted to wake up. After Jungkook asked him why he would want to wake up after finally getting what he had always wanted, his stalker shook his head.

 

‘Don’t you understand? That when I wake up you will be gone. Not here but hiding in your bedroom under your bedsheets making it difficult for me to see your frightened self through your closed blinds? I got used to it you know? Maybe I’ve become so thirsty for you that you once again followed me into my dreams.’ The man leaned over to come even closer. ‘If this is a dream I need to wake up now but it is already too late, isn’t it? I’ve already seen you from so close, you already looked me in the eye and when I wake up it will just be a mere picture in my head, a fictional picture that will fade with time. Maybe when I wake up, and I hope so, I won’t remember anything of this.’

 

Jungkook’s heart pounded. ‘I’m not a dream. I’m here and I’m real. Look at me, look me in the eyes and tell me how this could be a dream.’

 

He bit his lips, trying to suppress his slight shaking. He could swear he saw his stalker smile.

 

‘Let me touch your skin, I wonder if it’s as soft as I imagined it to be.’

 

While Jungkook didn’t say anything, didn’t move an inch, the man laid his hand on Jungkook’s neck, making goosebumps spread all over his body. Then he chuckled quietly and let his head sink down onto Jungkook’s thighs digging his face into the fabric of his trousers, still smiling. His flat hand hovered over his skin onto Jungkook’s face, touching it carefully, fearing he could ruin his soft skin with his rough fingers.

 

And Jungkook let him and didn’t speak but tried getting his breath under control.

 

 

 

 

He hadn’t told him his name yet. They hadn’t spoken to each other until it had gotten dark, until it was almost impossible to see each other’s faces. His stalker would stand up, leave Jungkook in the living room for a couple of minutes and then he would come back and sit down again to look at Jungkook, just to disappear again. Now they were just laying on the mattress together, both of them seemingly drowning in their own quiet thoughts. The feeling of being uncomfortable was fading inside Jungkook and the fear of the man next to him decreased slowly but gradually. He didn’t have the urge to run away from him, to push him away. He didn’t even bother begging him to speak. He was just wondering inside his head how his stalker didn’t want to touch him, to feel him or to speak to him. Unlike what he had seen in stalker movies or when he had seen documentaries on television. Why did he make no move when he allegedly was so obsessed with Jungkook? Maybe him getting the utmost attention of his stalker was his ultimate reason to come here. Yet, he didn’t receive it and it bothered Jungkook.

 

Then suddenly, he stood up again but came back quite quickly. When Jungkook looked up, he realized that his eyes had slowly adjusted to the dark and he was able to see the desaturated face of the man now kneeling in front of him. And he noticed something in his hand and by eying it more carefully it turned out to be a polaroid camera. Did he get it to take a picture of him? Jungkook sat up.

 

‘This is our first night. We should capture this moment.’

 

Jungkook nodded, he liked the idea. He positioned himself in front of the camera and asked whether he should smile. But the man shook his head. He wanted Jungkook’s real emotions, he had said. He didn’t like fake smiles, he didn’t want Jungkook to smile for him for such an important photo if it wasn’t was he was sincerely feeling. So Jungkook nodded and asked for some time to think about his feelings.

 

And then he dug into his mind. He looked around in his head, seeing all the faces that he wished would be gone for a second because he hated looking at them, he hated seeing his head being full of betrayers, of people he had believed in but was forced to let go. But then suddenly those pictures were washed away by big waves, his whole mind got flooded and he thought about how this was the past and how now he had someone else. He had someone that would do anything for him, he believed. He just had to find out how far he would go or how far Jungkook could drag him. Maybe this was not about how the stalker felt, but about how he felt. About what he wanted to do. Because this was his life, his world. And he was sure that his stalker, the man holding the camera, didn’t even bother objecting. Because to him Jungkook was everything. His world.

 

 _Click_.

 

Jungkook looked up, he didn’t even notice how he’d gotten lost in his own thoughts. He hadn’t even yet decided what face he should make for the photograph. But now it was already too late, the flash of the photo left him blind for the next few seconds. And then his stalker didn’t even wait for the photo to emerge but carried it away into another room together with the camera. Jungkook didn’t understand.

 

‘Why did you put it away?’

 

His stalker sat down on the mattress again and turned to Jungkook, even smiling a bit. He wanted to look at it tomorrow in the sun.

 

Then both of them again just laid side by side on the small mattress.

 

‘I want to call you by your name’, Jungkook said. ‘You already know mine.’

 

A short moment of silence followed after his stalker turned to him, glancing at his eyes.

 

Taehyung, he had said. His name was Taehyung.

 

And the first word that came to Jungkook’s mind when he woke up the next day was simply ‘Taehyung’.He couldn’t remember what he had dreamt that night, maybe it was better that way. But when he woke up his shirt was wet, it was hot and he was thirsty. The sun had filled the room again and then Jungkook sat up, realizing that Taehyung hadn’t been in the room anymore. Jungkook thought about his first day, the first night they had spent in the same room. The fact that he didn’t want to escape from here just yet. If this was a reality show and he was being interviewed after the first episode, Jungkook’s first impression of his stalker would be as followed.

 

He seemed like a normal guy. Nothing special at first. Something he would describe as the Ted Bundy Syndrome. It’s about your handsome neighbor that seemed to be the purest and nicest guy ever but could actually kill you the next second. You only notice something’s off when you actually talk to him. He talks in a weird manner. Jungkook’s fear of that man hadn’t disappeared yet, but it was hiding somewhere, waiting for the perfect moment to get out of control, to make Jungkook freak out. Even though Taehyung hadn’t made any move on him, Jungkook still wasn’t completely convinced that that man was harmless. Maybe this was his scheme after all, maybe he wanted to make Jungkook trust him so that then he could absorb every single inch of Jungkook and eventually make him disappear. But he was curious. He wanted to know more about Taehyung. Jungkook had never met a person like him before. In fact, Jungkook couldn’t analyze Taehyung’s personality just yet.

 

He stood up to get into the kitchen where he also didn’t find him. There was just a glass full of water in the middle of a small table and he wasn’t quite sure but he believed he could smell food too. Jungkook took the glass and left the kitchen again and decided to take a look into the other two rooms. After opening the first door he already could see Taehyung sitting on a small wooden chair holding a small photograph in his hands. It seemed like he didn’t notice Jungkook.

 

After taking a closer look around the room, Jungkook’s heart stopped for a moment. It was a quite small room but Jungkook believed that if it hadn’t been so stuffed, it would’ve been of much greater usage. But that obviously was not what had shocked him so much. What he saw was himself. Over and over again. He was put on walls, spread on the floor and sticked into photo albums. Only when Jungkook came in did Taehyung notice him. He looked up, somehow he looked messy. Drained. But he smiled.

 

‘I couldn’t wait. I had to look at your photograph and now I’m completely… I’m completely stunned.’

 

Jungkook slowly walked into the room over to Taehyung to take a look at the photograph. It was nice, he liked it. Jungkook liked himself in that photo, yes. When he looked at his expression, he was able to remember every single thought that had crossed his mind when Taehyung took the photo. He felt like his emotions were captured in that photograph forever and he truly could say that yes, it was a wonderful picture.

 

‘I am in a conflict’, Taehyung suddenly said. ‘I don’t know how to categorize this picture, your emotion in it. I can’t analyze it. Where do you think should I put it?’

 

Taehyung turned around and fetched a box that was stored under his desk. When he opened it, it looked like it contained different categories, all representing an emotion or action. Fear, happiness, laughter. Jungkook dared looking through the box just to find more photos of himself. And indeed, the photos showed him laughing with his classmates, walking home from school. There even was a photo of him standing in an alleyway where he had smoked a cigarette that he had stolen from his father. It was his first one and he hated it. He hated the feeling, the smell. He totally imagined it to have a soothing effect on him when to his disappointment it didn’t. It didn’t do anything to him. After that he had never tried smoking again. And he also didn’t want to. Some of the moments that Taehyung had captured with these photos Jungkook was able to remember vividly. But then again there were pictures where he felt like he was looking at a stranger, even though it was himself. He couldn’t remember some of those photos at all and it felt weird that another person might remember situations in his life when he himself didn’t. That didn’t feel right. It felt as if somebody else was living his life.

 

‘I don’t know’, Jungkook said. He didn’t know himself where he’d put the polaroid photo that they had taken the night before. Though he should’ve been the one to know best. But there just didn’t seem to be a fitting category, maybe it was also the definition of that emotion that was missing. He couldn’t say for sure. ‘Why don’t you create a new category?’

 

‘And what should it be called?’

 

Jungkook began to think. He wanted to take more of those photos, maybe not just of him, maybe also together with Taehyung. They could make their own photo album.

 

‘Adronitis’, Jungkook then said. ‘The frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone. The urge to exchange secrets before exchanging last names.’

 

Taehyung looked at him and then he took out an empty photo book, a black one, and a white pen. Then he wrote this one word on the cover and on the first page he put in the photograph as well as last night’s date. It looked beautiful. The only thing that bothered Jungkook was the fact that it was still so empty, if he could he would take a thousand pictures to glue them all over the pages, leaving no white space. But that would destroy its purpose. He wanted to take a picture everyday so that their story of getting to know each other would be captured in this album, being not just his own memories but also Taehyung’s.

 

‘Will you stay?’, Taehyung asked suddenly, looking at him kind of lost. Jungkook only nodded. He didn’t know for how long he wanted to stay. He didn’t know when reality would hit him, urging him to escape. He didn’t know if he wanted to die here. The only thing he knew was that for now he planned on staying long enough to get his revenge. He wanted people to know what they had done to him, that they had done him wrong. He wanted to prove that. He couldn’t tell Taehyung. He was happy that up to now Taehyung hadn’t asked him why exactly he wanted to stay. He sat down in front of him on the floor and looked around the room, at all his other selves in the photos. It shocked him. Not that this human being in front of him did all this but that Jungkook liked it. He was even mad at himself that he hadn’t known about all this because if he had, he would have tried to get out more often instead of hiding in his room. But maybe that was what was the true beauty behind these photos. That they were taken without Jungkook’s knowledge. And now he really wondered if there were more explicit photos of him and what else Taehyung hid. Maybe hiding was not the right word, Taehyung didn’t even try to hide all this.

 

Jungkook grabbed a photo that had peacefully rested on the floor. In the middle of the photo it showed him, smiling. Next to him there was another person, slightly smaller than him. He would recognize him everywhere. Even though he hated to look at him, he couldn’t help but ask himself one thing:

 

I wonder if you’ve already noticed, Jimin.

 

 

*

 

 

‘Isn’t it weird how they called us almost a week later? What kind of ‘parents’ are they?’

 

Both closed the doors of their grey vehicle. Being in the passenger seat, Hoseok glared outside the window once again to observe the monstrous mansion until it faded among other buildings. He couldn’t suppress the urge to scrunch his nose, as if he smelled something rotten.

 

‘That house would’ve won the casting for a horror movie, being in the role of the haunted house, no doubt. Even the family seemed so off. Don’t you agree, Detective?’

 

Hoseok looked over to his partner who concentrated on what was going on in front of his eyes while driving. But he got no answer. Hoseok didn’t really know how to behave around him, what he should say or if it wasn’t better to just shut up. Yet, they were a team, right? And it was a new case for Detective Kim, and for Hoseok it was the first. He didn’t think that he would get a missing person investigation, but maybe it was all about timing. Maybe this case was meant for Hoseok. And he didn’t graduate top of the class to separate two drunkards fighting in a club. Unless it would end with someone being murdered. But to be honest, he wasn’t too happy when he found out that his partner in his first case would be Detective Kim. He hadn’t met him before, no, but he had heard a lot about him. Some good stuff, more negative stuff. Detective Kim was known for solving his cases, he sure was, but on the other hand he was more known for solving them, let’s say, in his own ways. Which weren’t necessarily the best ways. Hoseok was not like that. He liked rules, control and a clear strategy that he could follow, just like in school. He didn’t like handling a case like a punching ball and doing with it whatever one wanted.

 

It was this morning when he was assigned to this case, together with the Detective. They hadn’t spent much time together yet but Hoseok couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable around the Detective. He didn’t talk much and if he did he sounded as if an evil villain had sucked out all the emotions in his voice or on his face. He seemed like a dead robot. But Hoseok also didn’t want to give up just yet, maybe if he kept on trying to talk to the Detective, maybe more like a friend, he’ll defrost and use emotions. If he was capable of doing so.

 

‘I went to that High School, too’, Hoseok then chose to say. ‘I can’t really say that I liked it but it did its purpose, you know? I wonder if-‘

 

‘We’re here.’

 

The car stopped and they parked next to another vehicle, most likely a teacher’s car and then stepped out. Hoseok couldn’t stand being cut off, but who was he to complain? He was the newbie after all, he had to obey humbly. He glanced at his old school, he would tell Detective Kim what had changed and what had remained the same and how nostalgic it felt being here again but he kept his mouth shut this time. It hadn’t changed much on the outside, but the inside felt rather unfamiliar. New pictures and decorations were put up, new posters. Suddenly he missed going to school, hanging out with his friends in the classrooms until it’d turn dark outside and then grabbing a drink somewhere, trying their first cigarettes on the roof tops. He wondered if some teachers remembered him, especially that one teacher that once caught him smoking, making him being suspended from school for some days. He would love to show him that he successfully graduated from Police School and that he now is working with some kind of detective.

 

They knew exactly whom they had to ask next about that missing boy’s whereabouts. They knocked on one of the many classroom doors until Detective Kim stepped in to ask for a boy named Park Jimin to talk to them for a few minutes, if that’d be okay. And of course it was, they were police.

 

‘Is it about Jungkook?’, was the first question he had asked them. So he knew about it. ‘Did something happen to him?’

 

‘We can’t say for sure yet. But you’re his best friend, right?’

 

A deep sigh.

 

‘I wouldn’t even count him to my acquaintances anymore.’

 

Despite Jimin pulling off a ‘I don’t care about him’ act, he still seemed curious, maybe a bit concerned about what they were going to tell him. He blinked rather often and for a second his hands clenched into fists before relaxing again. He did care.

 

‘Apparently, Jungkook has been missing for approximately one week. Do you know where he could be or did you speak to him?’

 

Jimin frowned, turning around to look through the small glasses that allowed one to glance inside the classroom. Then he shook his head.

 

‘I thought he was at home. I didn’t text him because he’d been ditching school for weeks now and I thought it was just another week of him staying at home. Last time I saw him was… actually I can’t really tell you. He almost completely stopped coming to school, he’d come in once a week at the most.’

 

‘Why did he stop coming to school, do you know that? Also, his parents told us you were his best friend so why suddenly the change of thought?’

 

You know, even though he was an attention seeking liar, I really liked him. I’ve known him for years and he might be odd but that’s what made him different from others, special. But this time he went too far, I couldn’t take it anymore. He lied to everyone about having a stalker, he even hurt himself to make everyone believe him but of course, every lie would come to light at some point. Everything just for attention. After that we didn’t talk to each other anymore, everyone at school started to avoid him and if one didn’t avoid him, they would bombard him with swearwords. I think he just couldn’t bear it anymore and stayed at home.’

 

Hoseok and Detective Kim looked at each other after writing down everything Jimin had told them. This Jungkook kid seemed rather mysterious, Hoseok had thought to himself.

 

‘Are you sure his stalker was a lie?’

 

Nodding.

 

‘Did you talk to him again after this whole story came out?’

 

He shook his head. Then he seemed to think about it a bit harder and then suddenly he nodded again.

 

‘I did! He actually approached me once more, he seemed really frustrated, he was shaking and stuff. He told me about how he really received a letter from this stalker and that this time he really didn’t fake it. Obviously I didn’t believe him. I was just so impressed at how good his acting had become. I swear he could be a top class actor if he just wasn’t such a jerk.’

 

What a coincidence, first the mansion and now also the boy who lived in it could be casted for a horror movie. Hoseok, concentrate.

 

‘His parents told us that he actually left home for school this Monday. Did you see him?’

 

‘No, sir. I would’ve noticed him.’

 

‘Thank you, Jimin. That’s everything we need from you for now. If anything else comes to your mind, please call us or come to the station. Do you know any other people we could talk to?’

 

Jimin just shook his head, saying he had no clue who they could talk to but then told them that he would call if he found something out.

 

‘Detectives… I really hope you’ll find him. Please keep in touch with me.’

 

After he closed the classroom door behind him, Hoseok looked up to Detective Kim. Somehow this case had a weird feeling to it. Something just wasn’t right.

 

‘Maybe the stalker wasn’t a lie after all and he did do something to Jungkook?’

 

Detective Kim sighed, nodded, telling him that this could be possible but they didn’t have any evidence for it. They really had nothing. All they had was parents that didn’t look after their son enough to notice he’d been gone for a week and friends that didn’t want to hear a single word about him. This boy must’ve done some really bad things. But maybe also really bad things had happened to him?

 

‘You know that the first 72 hours in a missing person investigation are the most critical. Those are already up, like, almost twice.’

 

‘Hoseok, I graduated from Police School and can do simple maths, I figured as much. What I believe for now is that this is a big misunderstanding. I think he just ran away from home for some time. You heard it, he needs attention and this is just exactly what he’s getting out of it. He’ll notice that wherever he might be it’s not as comfy as his home and then he will return to his spoiled family. Let’s give it some time. We can’t do much more, can we?’

 

Hoseok blinked, once, twice. Maybe trice.

 

‘Are you serious? Well, I’m happy you think that everything’s fine with him but still that doesn’t cross out the possibility of him being captured somewhere. We can’t just wait and see what’s going to happen. Besides, for how long do you intend to wait before maybe thinking about doing something?’

 

‘Okay, now listen. This is my case. I’m the boss and as much as I hope that this boy is fine, we do not have anywhere to look for him at the moment, alright? And if you don’t want to come with me now, feel free to find a way to get to the station by yourself.’

 

Detective Kim turned around but before he could get far, his phone started ringing.

 

Hoseok didn’t get much of the conversation besides ‘what?’, ‘yes that’s him’ and ‘we’ll come and get it immediately’. So, in conclusion, everything Detective Kim had said in that conversation. Even though Hoseok truly was curious about what they were talking about, he was mad at Detective Kim. This was his first case and he was pumped with energy but he certainly didn’t expect it to be like this, with a shitty detective.

 

Upon hanging up, he heard the detective sigh. What now?

 

‘Jungkook’s name tag and backpack were found. They’re already at the local police station. Let’s go.’

 

And suddenly Hoseok smiled again after seeing his Detective turning away, defeated.

 

 

 

‘A woman came to us with the backpack and the name tag. She said she was walking her son to school the past week and she noticed a backpack in a small street. She thought that the owner was around and would come take it but after days it would still be there, so she took it here. Like, it hasn’t even gotten stolen. It had been opened though.’

 

‘Nobody stole it because it’s a school bag probably. Nobody needs school books. What about a purse or anything else? Are you sure it is his backpack?’, Hoseok asked.

 

The man in the police uniform nodded. They were pretty sure. Not just was his name tag found right next to the backpack but after looking through his books and papers, his name was written on them a number of times. But no purse. The only rather suspicious thing they found was this one sheet of paper.

 

‘We’re not sure what this means, maybe it’s useless, but we kept it for you. Here.’

 

The little paper indeed was a bit unusual. At least what it said was weird.

 

_Are you familiar with the children’s story called The Boy Who Cried Wolf? I am so sorry that you cannot convince them of my presence. But if it is of any help, I can assure you that I am always there. I’ve never imagined becoming a wolf, but I became fond of this idea._

 

‘What do you think does that mean?’, Hoseok asked his Detective who kept hovering over the words with his two concentrated eyes. ‘Do you know that children’s story?’

 

‘If I may answer’, the officer from the local police station said. ‘My daughter who is in kindergarten just learned about this story. The boy who cried wolf is a story about a little shepherd boy who is bored looking after the sheep so he would cry for the villagers to come for help, saying that a wolf had appeared and is chasing all the sheep. But of course, there is no wolf. After playing that prank several times, the villagers get angry and swear that next time the boy would scream, they wouldn’t come for help as there wouldn’t be a wolf after all. But suddenly, a wolf really appears and the shepherd boy cries again but nobody comes save the sheep. The moral of the story is, of course, that if you keep lying, nobody would eventually believe you, even if you told the truth. I’m not sure what this has to do with the boy, though. If you need anything else, I’m at my desk.’

 

‘Sir, this… sounds just like what Jimin had told us. Just imagine this: The boy lied about the stalker because he, I don’t know, was bored, but then suddenly, there really was a stalker and when he cried for help, nobody believed him.’

 

‘The story has many endings you know’, Detective Kim suddenly said. ‘The story could end with the boy apologizing to the villagers and everything would be fine, but the sheep are all gone. But there are other endings too. One where the boy would be eaten by the wolf or he himself would become the wolf after feeling betrayed by the villagers. Some stories end with the boy living together with the wolf while letting the whole village shake in fear.’

 

‘I wonder which ending this story will have. Officer, where exactly was the backpack found?’

 

 

 

 

‘So it was here? Doesn’t look promising at all. Here’s nothing.’

 

Hoseok turned around a few times until he almost got dizzy. They had just arrived at the place where Jungkook’s backpack and name tag were found and there was just nothing. Hadn’t they known for sure that where his belongings were found was there exactly, it would’ve been impossible for them to find that place.

 

‘His parents told us that apparently he was on his way to school but why would he come here. He would’ve gotten to school by just walking straight ahead, not turning right into an alleyway.’

 

‘Then maybe he was dragged. The suspect could’ve waited here and then grab him and pull him into the alleyway.’

 

Detective Kim kept silent for a second, staring at the dirty ground. Hoseok wasn’t sure what was going through that man’s head. Did he think that Jungkook had just ran away or did he think that he had been captured? Then again, what did Hoseok himself believe happened? Somehow the idea of Jungkook just running away from home didn’t seem to be the answer. Something about this situation was different, something just didn’t make sense. But then why weren’t there any clues? Was it because nobody cared about him enough to report him missing after not coming to school even though he had left his home in the morning? Or after not coming home the next day? He leaned against the wall, thinking about what his parents had said during their interview after they had reported him missing.

 

‘So you’re saying you haven’t seen your son in five days?’

 

 

> Hoseok had just sat down next to Detective Kim who was interviewing the parents of an allegedly missing teenager. While the mother had taken over the speaking part, the father was busy hurriedly tapping on his phone, trying to contact people who might’ve seen him. At least Hoseok hoped that was what he was doing.
> 
>  
> 
> ‘Look, we’re busy people. It’s not uncommon for us to not see our son for some days. Sometimes even weeks pass and by no means he’s old enough to stay alone for some time.’
> 
>  
> 
> ‘Then why do you think he’s missing?’
> 
>  
> 
> By just observing Detective Kim, Hoseok could see that he didn’t like being around those parents, let alone talking to them. Hoseok couldn’t do more than just agree. For parents whose son might be missing they seem rather calm, in fact not a single bit worried. No wonder they hadn’t reported sooner.
> 
>  
> 
> ‘Actually our housecleaner came up to us. She asked us whether our son was on a school trip since she hadn’t seen him for a while, food’s not gone, no dirty clothes to wash. We called the school but their class had no trip planned and at the same time their teacher told us he didn’t come to school either, not that this was something new.’
> 
>  
> 
> ‘But he left for school on Monday?’
> 
>  
> 
> His mother nodded, they had seen him take his school bag and getting outside, wearing his school uniform. That did actually sound like he’d gone missing. His mother also told them that they kind of had an argument because he wanted to stay at home but they wouldn’t let him unless he saw a doctor. Still she believed that he wouldn’t have run away from home voluntarily, but maybe he was at a friend’s house.
> 
>  
> 
> ‘Did you try calling his friends?’
> 
>  
> 
> ‘We don’t know any of his friends besides Jimin whose parents we’ve called but they said he wasn’t with them.’
> 
>  
> 
> They didn’t get much clues from them. They were allowed to take a short look at his room but then his parents had to go to work so the Detectives continued their work at the school Jungkook attended. Maybe they could go back into their mansion again, maybe Jungkook had left a clue himself, maybe there was a diary.

 

‘Maybe he lost his name tag during a fight? Maybe it got ripped off?’

 

Hoseok nodded, he couldn’t think of anything else himself. Maybe it was best to ask people in this area if they might’ve seen something or maybe some of them even have clues who the suspect might be.

 

*

 

Once again, the housecleaner answered the door after they had stood on the porch for approximately two minutes. Hoseok didn’t like being here, the mansion intimidated him, it was far too bulky and the people that lived in it didn’t compensate for that at all. Since the last time somebody had seen Jungkook, six days had passed and they had to come back here, not just to report but also to take a closer look at Jungkook’s room to hopefully find a clue, or just anything.

 

They were let in and lead into the big living room just to find out that they hadn’t been the only visitors that day. A young man was sitting across Jungkook’s parents, a little device that looked like a voice recorder had been put on the table between them but as soon as they saw the detectives, their voices fell silent.

 

‘Thank you for letting us take a look at Jungkook’s room again, we also would like to tell you what we’ve found out so far’, Detective Kim said, slightly bowing to the parents who didn’t seem too convinced judging from the reaction they got. Which was none. Hoseok couldn’t believe how parents could act like that. But as if he could change something about it.

 

‘Ah, so you must be Detective Kim who’s responsible for this case. Nice to meet you. And I believe this is your rookie, hm? An exciting case, isn’t it?’

 

‘I’m sorry and you are?’

 

‘Oh, excuse me. My name is Kim Seokjin, I am a journalist. I came here to interview Jungkook’s parents.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go! Thank you for your kudos and comments and just for reading my fan fiction!!  
> I hope you like it and continue reading it ♡ 
> 
>  ALSO didn't the polaroid pic turn out just MAGNIFICENT 
> 
> (btw. even though Jin already appeared in this chapter, I chose to keep him blurred because he basically just appeared and didn't really contribute much to the chapter yet.......and to keep y'all curious)

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, you made it!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it. If yes, be so kind and leave kudos/comments if you want as it would make me so so happy and reassure me that I have some readers.


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